


Fox

by MsBrightsideSH



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, actually kinda christmasy, told from animal perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 11:43:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBrightsideSH/pseuds/MsBrightsideSH
Summary: If you look closely, you see a light. It comes from a house, a cottage, on top of a hill.Someone is awake in that cottage. Someone can’t sleep.





	Fox

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird and tiny thing I originally started to write for Secret Saito (so forgive the unseasonal setting) and that seemed to fit no where - except here.
> 
> Hope you enjoy (it's kind of a tiny hommage to Astrid Lindgren's Tomte Tummetot, if you squint)
> 
> Big thanks as always to my wonderful beta, katethereader!

It’s dark outside. It’s late, very late. The world is quiet. Snow covers the hills, sitting on the trees like fluffy white caps. Everyone, from the smallest mouse in its burrow to the proudest deer in the forest, is sleeping. Everyone?  
If you look closely, you see a light. It comes from a house, a cottage, on top of a hill.  
Someone is awake in that cottage. Someone can’t sleep.  
Is it a child, too excited to go to bed? It’s Christmas Eve, after all. But no, surely, a parent would have noticed, would have sent their child upstairs, read them a story or two or three, until their eyes got heavy. No, it’s not a child sitting there, it’s a man.  
He doesn’t look excited, or happy. If you dare to go near enough to peek through the window, you can see that he looks rather sad. Lonely, you might think, even though you don’t know the man. He’s unshaven and his hair is a mess. He seems to you like someone who would wear colourful things, but he’s dressed in grey and brown. It doesn’t suit him.  
He’s resting his head in his hands, his eyes are dropping shut, then open again. Is he waiting for someone? He doesn’t look it, somehow. Hoping for someone, perhaps.  
Hoping without too much hope. From time to time, he jerks up as if he’s heard something, then sinks back. Perhaps you notice that his house isn’t decorated like all the other houses. Not on the outside and not on the inside.

Your nose twitches. There are steps coming up behind you. They’re still a way off, but you hear them, even in the soft snow. Your ears twitch as well. You should run off, but you’re curious. You duck deeper into the shadows of the wall, waiting, ready to run if you are discovered. Humans don’t take too kindly to you, you know.  
Out of the darkness comes a man. He’s not very tall, but his stride is long. His coat looks too thin for this weather (you are glad for your fur) and his nose is red, but he doesn’t seem to feel the cold. He’s smiling widely, walking even faster now that he’s close to the house. In front of the door, he stops, suddenly unsure. You want to tell him to knock, that he’s being awaited, that he doesn’t need to fear, but you can’t of course, and he doesn’t need you to. He straightens and knocks, just once. You’re still hiding, so you can’t see what’s happening inside, but a moment later, the door is opened. In the light that is streaming into the night now, you see the first man, and the second, just looking at each other.  
Finally, the first man speaks.  
“Arthur,” he says, and if you ever had any doubt, you know now that the second man is the person he was waiting for. “Eames,” the second man says, and you can hear his smile as well.  
The first man, Eames, is carefully reaching out a hand to touch.  
“What are you doing here?” he asks. He sounds like he thinks he is dreaming.  
The other man shrugs. “It’s Christmas,” he says, and then he falls around Eames’s neck. It seems a bit sudden to you, and to Eames as well, but he hugs back and they stand there, locked together, two silhouettes become one in front of the soft light from the house.  
Then, they go inside and close the door. The lights go off. Now everything, really everything, is dark. You swish your tail through the snow and make your way down the hill. Perhaps you can steal a chicken down at the farm.


End file.
